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| Ban’ya Natsuishi Japan[2] |
Haiku
and Translation[1]
English text by Ban’ya Natsuishi
and adjusted by Eric Selland
I’m very happy to be here in a little box to give a lecture
about one of the most important and fundamental matters for World Haiku, that
is “Haiku and Translation”. After the postponement
of five years when we endured many stressful and bitter experiences due to the
pandemic and the war in Ukraine, finally we manage to hold the 11th World Haiku
Association Conference on Zoom. Our common subject “Haiku and Translation” is especially
a concern for me as a Japanese, giving a lecture in English here. Because this
lecture text is impossible without citing haiku translations and the process of
my thinking in English itself is deeply related to translation.
First of all, I look back briefly over the history of the
translation of haiku. A diplomat as well as a Japanologist posted from the
British Empire, William George Aston mentioned three haiku in his book entitled
“A Grammar of the Japanese Written Language” (the 2nd edition, London:
Trübner & Co., Yokohama: Lane, Crawford & Co., 1877). It’s one of the
first introductions of haiku in overseas publications. All of three haiku were
cited only in Roman letters without Japanese original, each free translation
putted on the right side of each Romanized haiku. Moreover, Aston added English
titles to all of them. One of these haiku in Roman letters as follows:
Yufudachi
ya
Ta wo mi-meguri no
Kami naraba.
“THE SUMMER-SHOWER.” is the English title devised by Aston
for this haiku. This elaborated haiku’s author is Kikaku Enomoto who is an
excellent disciple of Basho Matsuo, though the English Japanologist omitted the
author’s name in his book. The free translation of the haiku above is quite
curious, because it is a long and complicated sentence.
Oh! If the summer-shower were only a god who
should make his round of visits to the rice-fields.
Restraining from the detailed analysis of translation, it is
extremely clear that Aston had no sense that the translation of this haiku into
English should be in three lines. In addition, he could not accept any poem
without title. In conclusion, for the English intelligentsia in the 1870s,
haiku was far from European poetry, haiku was something strange absolutely
separate from European poetry.
At the beginning of
the 20th century, the 1st scholarly treatise in a western language on
haiku was written by a multilingual English scholar, Basil Hall Chamberlain, who
established the foundations of University of Tokyo department of literature.
Chamberlain quoted 205 Japanese classic haiku with three-line form in Romanized
script, followed by his two-line English translation and short comments in his
treatise “Bashō and the Japanese poetical Epigram” (“Transactions of the
Asiatic Society of Japan”, Vol. XXX, Tokyo, Rikkyo Gakuin Press, 1902). He
refused to translate some haiku into two-line form in English after criticizing
them harshly; Basho’s “Furuike ya” (Old pond) haiku is unlucky
among them.
:Chamberlain picked up the most typical haiku at its highest point of perfection for him, its English translation with two lines as follows
A single river, stretching
far
Across the moorland
swathed in snow.
This haiku composed by Boncho Nozawa who is a disciple of
Basho, too. I cannot appreciate this translation with two lines. It seems quite
fragmented and only a piece of some composition. Such a translation fails to
catch the poetic merits of the haiku.
:The Japanese original of Boncho’s haiku with 5-7-5 syllabic form in Roman letters
Naganaga
to
kawa hitosuji ya
yuki no hara
:My experimental English translation below
Long, long
a narrow river
across the
snow-covered plain
This classic haiku poet keeps the fixed form in the haiku
quoted above. Keeping the 5-7-5 syllabic form in English translation is
meaningless. I translated it into 2-5-7 syllables. The most important and rich
poetic essence is in a leap between one line and the next line, not keeping the
fixed form. Let’s illustrate this kind of poetics in this example.
The reader’s anticipation is suspended after the end of the
1st line “Naganaga to” (Long, long). He doesn’t know what is long-extended.
He has no means to predict whether something temporally long or something spatially
long will appear in the next line. Then a narrow river like a piece of thread
appears in the 2nd line. The most interesting leap is between the 2nd
line and the 3rd line. All of a sudden, the view of the haiku is so zoomed
out that the reader is led to stand alone on the extensive plain covered with
snow.
Of course, this haiku short of rich sensations and
suggestions is not a great work. But I cannot neglect the fact that the haiku
translation with two lines in English by Chamberlain loses the essential poetics
of haiku utilized in Boncho’s moderate short poem. Two-line haiku translation
narrows the dynamic that the three-line approach has.
Take a masterpiece of
haiku by Basho.
Tabi
ni yande
yume wa kareno o
kake-meguru
Chamberlain’s translation in the same treatise:
Ta’en ill while
journeying, I dreamt
I wandered o’er
withered moor.
The following is a translation by me and Eric Selland:
Sick on a trip
my dream
runs about the
withered fields
The 1st line in Basho’s original “Tabi ni yande” consists
of four short words with six syllables, not five syllables, as a result this
line sounds tense in keeping with its meaning. Our translation “Sick on a trip”
sounds as tense as the Japanese original. On the contrary, Chamberlain’s
translation begins with old-fashioned word “Ta’en” which is a refined
shortening of “taken”. He missed the tense tone that is the indispensable element
of Basho’s last lamenting poem.
There is a strong break in the middle of the 2nd
line, between “yume wa”(my dream) and “kareno o” (about the withered field), so
our translation puts a line break after “yume wa”(my dream). Chamberlain considered
“yume wa” (my dream) as “yume ni” (I dreamt). In this last haiku by Basho, his bold
and unprecedented skill makes “yume wa”(my dream) a subject of the last two
lines, instead of “I”. It’s a great and epoch-making feat of this haiku. Not
“I”, but “my dream” “runs about the withered field”. This masterpiece of Basho
activates all words included in one haiku, utilizing effectively line breaks and
even a break in one line.
Though I don’t forget to praise the achievement of
Chamberlain as one of the 1st introducers of haiku to the West, unfortunately
his two-line haiku translation missed the essential poetics of haiku. So now it’s
time to think of the essential poetics of haiku. Haiku writing and haiku
translation in any language must utilize effectively the essential poetics of
haiku which is not fully understood either in Japan or overseas.
The 5-7-5 syllabic form is not necessary, because in most
cases, Japanese haiku with 5-7-5 syllabic form cannot be translated into the
same fixed form in other languages.
I and Eric Selland translated the most world-famous haiku “Furuike
ya” (Old pond) with the fixed form into an English poem with syllables of 2-6-5
as follows:
- Old pond
only
a water sound
as
a frog jumps in
It is natural that if haiku translation gives birth to a short
poem of high quality, we are free from keeping the fixed form, while a haiku
poet is permitted to write haiku with the fixed form.
The grammatical structure of the target language may change
the order of words and the order of lines in the original language. In the case
of “Furuike ya” (Old pond), the 2nd line in Japanese is translated
into the 3rd in English, conversely the 3rd line in
Japanese translated into the 2nd line in English. Nobody can change any
grammar arbitrarily, but such kind of change in translation is permitted.
Compare the English version of this haiku with the Japanese
original.
Furuike
ya
kawazu tobikomu
mizu no oto
This most world-famous haiku is not known as a poem in the Japanese
original with 5-7-5 syllabic form. Except a very few examples, almost all translations
are short free verse poems with three lines. The three-line form is the most
important and essential for haiku in any language.
Concerning seasonal words, it is not indispensable, because
there is no standard for the seasons around the world. Any season depending on the
climate is regionally acceptable.
Returning to “Furuike ya” (Old pond) haiku, the 1st
line is almost the same in both versions, it designates “Furuike” (Old pond)
and ends with a cutting word “ya”, its English equivalent is an em dash “―”.
The 1st line vaguely suggests muddy and gloomy water in both
versions.
The 2nd line in Japanese “kawazu tobikomu” (a
frog jumps in) shows an unexpected momentary movement by a frog. Frogs are
easily found around water, in this case only a sound of a frog jumping into the
old pond without making an appearance is heard by Basho. The contrast between a
stagnant and old “Furuike" (Old pond) and a vivid and young frog is quite
clear.
In the English version, the contrast between the 1st
and 2nd line differs from the Japanese original. The 2nd
line in English is occupied by not a frog as in the Japanese, but by merely “a
water sound”. The contrast between the visual image of a stagnant expanse of
“Old pond” and a momentary “water sound” results from these first two lines.
This contrast connects the visual sense with the auditory sense.
It is a natural consequence that the 3rd line works
differently in each version. In Japanese, “mizu no oto” (a water sound) erases
the visual image of a frog. Only a water sound is heard by the poet who didn’t see
the frog. In other words, a water sound reminds Basho of a frog jumping into a
pond. This ending is surprisingly magical.
The 3rd line in the English version shows “a
frog” as the cause of “a water sound”. This ending makes “a frog” a moving and
almost invisible focus of “Old pond” in the 1st line and “a water
sound” in the 2nd line.
It’s not useful to discuss which version is better. Each
version effectively utilizes poetic technique to vivify all words and all line
breaks used in the haiku. Haiku translation or haiku writing with two lines
cannot produce such rich effects, but three-line form fully utilized enables us
to write a short poem filled with creative verbal power.
Please allow me to take my haiku as an example of
translation. The following haiku was translated into eight languages. All nine
versions were included in my Indian publication “The Theater of the Desert”
(Cyberwit.net, 2017).
:Japanese
砂漠の劇場魂を買う金がない
(Sabaku no
gekijo / Tamashii o kau / kane ga nai)
:French
Le théâtre du
désert
pas d’argent
pour acheter l’âme
:Portuguese
O teatro do deserto
não é preciso dinheiro
para comprar a alma
:Italian
Il teatro del deserto
non c’è denaro
per acquistare l’anima
:Bulgarian
Театърът на пустинята
не се купува с пари
душата
:English
The theater of the desert
no money
to buy a soul
:Mongolian
Элс манхны театр
Сүнсээ худалдаж авах
Сохор мөнгө
ч үгүй
:Chinese
沙漠的劇場
欲買魂魄
手無分文
:Arabic
مسرحُ الصّحراءِ
لا مالَ
لشراءِ الرُّوحْ
In July 2016, I visited Morocco for the first time. A play I attended in Jerada near Oujda inspired me to write this haiku. These multilingual translations were made by my friends. Though I can only understand a few languages, I guess each three-line translation is well done, focusing on the last line in Japanese “kane ga nai” (no money) which express the deep, dark despair of a man left alone in the desert.